


Stray Cat

by CatiCom



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatiCom/pseuds/CatiCom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slow burn between the Sole Survivor and John Hancock from Hancock's perspective. Some plot lines follow canon, some don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat Got Your Tongue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-write. It doesn't really have new content but it's a lot better than it used to be.

Chapter 1: Cat Got Your Tongue

John Hancock was not a man who spied on the habits of his constitutes. 

Normally. 

That didn’t stop him from leaning over the balcony to watch the rather strange actions of a woman in an electric blue suit. He had just been innocently smoking -not spying- when she stormed out from the Memory Den, hell bent on capturing his attention, apparently. People normally didn’t storm out of the Memory Den. They typically floated. Or oozed. But never flew like a bat outta hell with streaming white blonde hair and a ghostly pale but determined face. She had made it about halfway across the street before stopping so abruptly she might as well have slammed into an invisible wall. He was pretty sure there was no such structure in the middle of his street. He could count the paving stones in his sleep after all. 

She just stood there, rigid and facing away from him. The ramrod straightness of her spine reminding him of a radstag having caught the scent of deathclaw in heat. He scanned the street but saw no immediate threat, in fact, the town was sleeping peacefully. She was the only one moving under the dim orange glow of the streetlight. He wished he could see her face, take in her expression, and gauge for himself if there was a threat. Not that seeing her face would necessarily tip him off as to what the hell was going on with her. The brief encounters they had so far had taught him that much at least. 

Hancock had first noticed her when she walked purposefully through his gates one stormy afternoon in all her fresh-from-the-vault glory. It had been raining and the wet material of her vault suit was hard to miss as it glinted in the weak afternoon sun. It also made it, if possible, more clingy than before so she was essentially walking around in a shiny, electric blue second skin. It was hard to not notice her if he was being honest and he was inclined to 'notice' her a bit longer than your average drifter, something about the skin tight outfit might have to do with that. 

She was kind of a bizarre character if truth be told. Other than the obviously vault-dweller status she gave off, she had a thick braid of white hair. Hancock guessed it could be considered very pale blonde, but he had never seen that hair color in someone under 60. Nevertheless, she was obviously very young. Her skin was unblemished and very pale, which made sense for someone who had lived most of their life underground. She was small and slight but had the kind of curves most men dreamed about which made him think she had never missed a meal in her life. She was traveling extremely light, not even a shoulder bag or anything and her only travel companion appeared to be a scruffy dog at her hip. People like her typically only came to Goodneighbor to trade or because they were lost so he figured it was the latter. 

She scanned the storefronts, squinting slightly like the overcast light hurt her eyers. He felt her cold gray gaze light on him for a second before turning to her dog to mumble a command. The dog obediently sat while his owner started tapping away at the pip-boy on her wrist. Curiosity peaked, he let her get her bearing before he would swoop in with all his charming bravado and see where that got him. Hopefully a drink at least. It was a tried and true method with the average drifter after all. Though, vault dwellers could be pretty stand-offish around ghouls. They typically didn't have much experience with rad freaks and their first introduction is normally with ferals. He'd had vaulties shrink back in terror from him at best and try to shoot him at worst. So for the nonce, he held back and watched the vault beauty check the 10mm at her side, seemingly her only weapon, with only a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. 

Hancock was leaning against the wall of the old State House, his arms folded across his chest and one booted foot crossed over the other. From this position, he enjoyed a full view of the entrance of his town and could keep the vaultie in sight while he kept his tricorn pulled down low so it wasn't obvious. Just watching out for a newcomer, he told himself, as he lit up a cigarette. 

Still, Finn should have know better than to start the same old shit Hancock had warned him off of just last week. But here old Finny was, oozing up to the vaultie like the bit of filth he was. Hancock sighed and flicked his cigarette away. He made eye contact with Fahrenheit, his second in command, who was slouched next to him and nodded toward Finn. She scowled at him and rolled her eyes at Hancock as if to say, 'if you must'. 

“Hey, hold up there,” Finn growled. The vault woman turned her attention to him with a cold stare but, to her credit, didn't flinch. “First time in Goodneighbor? Can’t go walking around without insurance.”

It was the same old line. Finn really wasn't a smart man. He started toward them but hung back when he saw the vault girls face. She was eyeing him coldly and something about the set of her pert mouth made him decide to see how she handled herself. He was expecting her to dissolve into a quivering mess. She looked pissed but not even a bit scared. If anything, she gave him a look that gave Hancock the distinct impression that Finn was just a minor annoyance after a day full of fucked up shit. 

She never took her eyes off of him though while reaching slowly into her front chest pocket and removing and lighting her own cigarette. She inhaled and blew the smoke out slowly before answering. 

“Unless it’s ‘keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me’ insurance, I’m not interested,” she deadpanned around her smoke still pegging him with a chilling stare. Her eyes were the strangest shade of gray silver. 

“Now don’t be like that. I think you’re going to like what I have on offer.” Finn continued, “You hand over everything you got in them pockets or ‘accidents’ start happening to you. Big, bloody, ‘accidents’. " He leered at her. 

The woman laughed, “I’ll take my chances.” She flicked her smoke away and sighed, pulling her 10mm and training on Finn. The dog beside her started to growl.

Finn sputtered, surprised at her challenge. He started to pull the pistol from his back pocket obviously not expecting a fight from this tiny woman. 

Hancock had seen enough and was still worried that the vaultie was outmatched, “Whoa, whoa. Timeout.” Finn froze and turned slightly to face him. The woman flicked her eyes to him, took in his admittedly peculiar appearance for a beat and then back to Finn, not letting herself be distracted from the more immediate threat. Her gun was still pointed steadily at him. 

“Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest. You lay off that extortion crap.” She looked at him again, this time holding her gaze on him. He gave her his favorite lopsided smirk, normally a real hit with the ladies. Her frown deepened. 'Okay then,' he thought. 

“What do you care? She ain’t on of us,” Finn whined. 

“No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go.” Hancock was seriously over Finn's shit. One more word....

Finn’s pockmarked face turned red. “Your soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there will be a new mayor.”

Now he’d done it. 

Hancock chuckled. “Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something.” Hancock gestured brotherly to the idiot before stabbing him twice in the stomach. Finn fell with a grunt. He saw the Vaultie tense and the slowly lower her gun. She didn't holster it, though. The dog growled on. 

Hancock spat, “Now why’d you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.” He turned back to the vault girl, who hadn't shown any particular emotion over the stabbing. “You all right sister?”

“Yes.” She said emotionlessly turning her strange eyes on him once more. She holstered her gun and hushed the dog, who whined once more before sniffing the dead man's feet. 

Hancock watched the dog warily. Dogs didn't alway take to ghouls kindly. He held his hand out for it to sniff which it did good-naturedly before returning to its' mistress' side. 

“Good Neighbor's of the people, for the people. You feel me? Everyone’s welcome.”

She nodded, still eyeing him, dropping her hand to the dog's head. Her silence unnerved him. 

“So long as you remember who’s in charge.” He finished with the same lopsided smirk. 

“Which would be you?” she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, just the barest hint of the smile pulling at the corner of her pale lips. 

He nodded, “Mayor John Hancock, at your service.” He held out his hand, testing her, and was pleasantly surprised when she took it without flinching. Maybe she wouldn't be immune to his charms after all...

“Nice to meet you. I’m Cat,” she said with no real warmth despite her words. Without further adieu she bent and started rifling through Finn’s pockets, taking his knife and caps. She had balls, he had to give her that. 

“You want to strip his clothes too?” Fahrenheit spat as she joined them, crossing her arms across her breastplate. 

“No, this is fine.” Cat said straightening and smirking at Hancock, “For the people, of the people, right?” 

Hancock chuckled. “I think you’re going to fit in nicely. Need a tour?” He schemed that the last stop on the tour would be the VIP room in the Third Rail with this beauty all cuddled up against his side. He would see what whiskey and some daytripper would do to that cool visage. Vaulties typically liked daytripper, it was gentle and sweet. Not like psyco. 

“I can manage.” F

Or not. 

Fahrenheit snickered and he tried not to sulk. “Well, if you need anything I’ll be around.” But she was already tapping her pip-boy and walking away, the dog at her heels. He noticed for the first time that she wasn't just slight but really small. She barely came up to his chin and he wasn’t the world’s tallest ghoul to begin with.

 

He didn’t see her again for a few weeks and had figured that she probably ended up in the gutter somewhere or had crawled back to her vault. That’s if he thought of her. He was a busy man after all and strange women came and went from Goodneighbor all the time. Sure he stabbed a man for her and she turned him down but he had plenty of other women to warm his bed at night. When you had endless booze and drugs at your disposal you never had to be alone unless you wanted to be. He guessed she wasn’t into ghouls and let it go. 

That’s not to say that he didn’t immediately recognize her when she stumbled through the door in the company of Nick Valentine a few weeks later. This girl kept good company, he thought as he nodded at the pair of them from his perch on the State House steps. He was nursing the mother of all hangovers and wasn't in a talking mood. They both nodded back and she met his gaze with those same cold gray eyes as they silently walked past. She seemed to have acquired some more weapons and armor, though, which made him strangely happy. It was good to see the little vaultie making it in the great big Commonwealth. The Neighborhood Watch later told him that she had proceeded to drop off Nick at the Memory Den, of all places, and then began asking around for work. Even the pretty ones gotta work. 

So he wasn’t surprised to see her come through the door to his office a few hours later asking for work. 

“Well, if it isn’t Cat the intrepid Vault Dweller!” he drawled. 

She smiled coldly and cut right to the chase, which left him a bit disappointed. She was going to be in town a few days and was looking for merc work. He decided to throw her a bone and sent her to scout out Pickman Gallery which had been on his radar for a while. She took the job and left soon afterward with that young mercenary McCready in tow. He was glad she hadn't gone alone. 

Well, it seemed that she was back and acting more strangely than ever. She still was just...standing there on the road. Rigid as a statue. Hancock decided he couldn’t take it anymore and run down the stairs and out the door. He approached her still form after watching from the shadows for a few moments. 

“I don’t to nag but aren’t you supposed to be scouting Pickman Gallery for me?” He said in a joking manner. 

She didn’t answer. 

“What’s the matter Sunshine, Cat got your tongue?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she spun toward him. 

For a fleeting second, he saw the raw anguish in her face and it made him gasp. Cat’s eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks hollowed with despair. She looked like a agonized corpse. 

“I’m sorry, sister.” He stammered. “I- uh. Are you alright out here?”

Her face suddenly dropped into the cool mask he was used to. She cleared her throat. 

“It’s fine, you just startled me.” Her voice was light and even, “I, uh....I checked out Pickman Gallery.”

“What- oh.” Hancock was completely thrown off by her, to say the least. 

“It’s not safe. But mostly for raiders.” She stared out into the middle distance for a second and then shook her head. 

“Okay,” he was still trying to forget those pained eyes. “Maybe come by later and give me more details?”

She nodded and turned to go, leaving him rooted to spot. It felt like a wind had just rushed over him making him disoriented. Had he really seen that or were the drugs catching up to him? What could she have seen in the Memory Den that had turned her into a haunted shell right before his eyes?


	2. Something the Cat Dragged In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Hancock have a disagreement.

Chapter 2: Something the Cat Dragged In

Hancock’s interactions with Cat were few and far between after their run-in on the street. She didn’t come to tell him about Pickman Gallery, opting to send McCready in her stead. He listened in sick fascination to the merc recount the 'art' the fucker was making. Hancock was unnerved and a little irritated when McCready finished the story by telling him that Cat allowed Pickman to live despite his obvious obsession with her. He felt like this was a serious misjudgment on her part but who was he to tell her how to live her life. He watched her leave with Nick later that day and bit his tongue. He didn't see her again for a few months. 

 

Hancock was sitting at his kitchen table, chin resting on his fist as Fahrenheit filled him in during their daily rundown. She was leaning on the windowsill, reading notes from a small pad of paper, her face in its customary scowl, the one Hancock found strangely enduring. 

“We’ve had a couple more drifters drop in with news about the Minutemen. Apparently, they’ve started up again in force.” 

Hancock snorted, “We’ll see how long they stick around this time. Idealistic fools.” He popped a mentat under his tongue. 

“You’d be surprised. Rumor has it they’ve taken back that old ruin on the coast.”

“No shit! The Castle?” Hancock whistled, impressed. “How’d they manage that?”

“No idea.”

“Some intel you are. How many members they got?”

“I don’t know, John. Why don’t you call and fucking ask them?” Fahrenheit snapped her pad closed with irritation. 

“All right, all right. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” he drawled good-naturedly. “Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, good. Time for a chem break, heh.” He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back until his spine cracked. He let out a contented sigh. It was good to be mayor after all. 

Fahrenheit turned to brood out the window at the rain pounding the glass. “We probably need to start getting ready for winter. The fucking weather’s already changing. It rained for a soiled two months last year.”

“Nah, sister! We’re done with work today!” He moved to the couch with a huff, “Leave off all that mayoral shit.” He grabbed a jet inhaler and sprawled out, tipping his hat low on his forehead. Fahrenheit fell silent and may have left for all he knew. His mind was slowing on the warm waves of the jet and he planned to ride out this high all afternoon, helped and abated by some mentats and med-x of course. 

“Fuck!” 

Hancock sprung up, his hat flying. Across from him, Fahrenheit pulled her gun, still looking out the window. 

“Fuck, John,” she repeated. “Super Mutants at the gate.” 

So much for that high, he thought as he grabbed his shotgun off the coffee table and ran with her out the door. 

The square was in chaos. People were fleeing and the Neighborhood Watch scrambled to find cover, weapons trained on the single giant standing still inside the door ready to swing his super sled and glowering…...and the woman standing next to him, her arm on the mutant, holding him back. 

Of course, it was Cat. 

“What the actual fuck?” Fahrenheit gave Hancock a bewildered stare with her gun still pointed at the woman and mutant. He took a hesitant step forward, shotgun pointed down at the ground but still at the ready. 

Cat met his gaze with a look of cold amusement. 

“I guess I wore out my welcome.” she had her hand on her holster but hadn’t drawn. 

“I case you haven’t fuckin noticed, you’ve got a fucking mutated freak with you.” Fahrenheit spat. 

She turned her gaze on her and smirked, “So do you.” 

Fahrenheit cursed but Hancock laughed darkly, not offended. The tension broke and people started going back to their business. 

“It’s a little different, sister.” Hancock eyed the mutant but stepping closer to talk to her. “Most ghouls aren’t trying to kill all non-ghouls if you take my meaning. Not counting the ferals obviously.”

“Obviously.” She sighs, indicating the super mutant. “Don’t worry, he’s housetrained.”

“Well, at least there's that.” Hancock chuckled. Fahrenheit gave him a withering look and stomped off to the state house steps, gun still drawn. 

“You gonna introduce your new friend? Or did McCready just have a really shitty day?”

Cat laughed icily, “No, he wishes.” She turned to the mutant, “This is Strong. I guess you could say he’s studying humans and wanted to tag along.” 

Hancock looked the mutant up and down while Strong exposed his yellow teeth in return. 

“I hate to sound disagreeable but I’m not so sure this is the place for his…..studies. I would hate for him to loose control and…..”

“Eat someone?” she finished for him, an eyebrow raised. 

He shrugged, “Well, yeah. It’s kinda their thing, ya know?”

She stared him down and said quietly, “And what’s your thing, Mayor Hancock?” 

He stared back, not sure what to say. 

She sneered, “Of the people, for the people.” He was really beginning to regret saying that phrase to her. 

“That’s taking some liberties with the definition of, well, people.” He rolled his eyes. 

She snorted, “Some would say the same about you and they would be wrong."

He shrugged, angry now but also strangely flattered. “Again, I don’t eat people.” he turned his attention to Strong, “Hey up there! How many people you ate?”

“Many, tiny ghoul man,” Strong growled. 

Cat sighed, "Couldn't you have lied a little bit?"

Strong turned to her, "Strong don't lie. Strong suck marrow looking for milk of human kindness."

Cat groaned. 

He spread his hands out and looked at Cat. "I don't know what the fuck that was but he's not coming in."

She was angry now. There was cold fury smoldering in her eyes. 

“He’s with me. I’ve got it under control.”

“Sister, I don’t think you know what that means.” he flashed back to her anguished face that day in the street and her decision to let Pickman go. If he didn’t have any doubts about her judgment before he sure did now. 

She literally hissed through her teeth, perhaps knowing where his mind went. “Fine, let’s go Strong.” she turned to the door. 

“Strong follow the tiny human.” the giant rumbled and led through the door. He had to bend to get through it. 

“I just gotta protect my people. It’s nothing personal.” Hancock said.

 

Cat gave Hancock one final contemptuous look before leaving with her companion.


	3. Cat's Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock makes an assumption.....

Cat was back a week later with the annoying reporter from Diamond City. 

Fahrenheit announced her presence with an unceremonious, “That Cat bitch is back”. 

Hancock all but flew to the window. 

He had thought about their last encounter with growing unease. It didn’t sit right with him. She had treated him like he was prejudiced like he was The Man. Him! It rankled and caused him a whole lot of self-reflection that he really just wasn’t up to. Mentats just made it worse and that really pissed him off. Who was she to make him feel all….introspective? And all because he wouldn't let in her damn super mutant. 

But here she was again, looking around unperturbed like she hadn’t been kicked out the last time she was here. Curiosity was burning through him. He wanted to talk to her, to get past all that icy anger to know if she truly thought he was a narrow-minded tyrant. Lately, his thoughts had just about chafed 

He was musing out the window, trying to come up with a reason to approach her when she lifted her head and made eye contact with him. He wanted to duck below the sill like a child, instantly flushing, not that you could tell on his mutilated cheeks. Her eyes narrowed but she nodded respectfully and exchanged a few words with Piper. Piper frowned but shrugged in a defeated way and they made a beeline for the State House door.

Hancock rushed to look like he was casually draped across the couch, a picture of nonchalance. He tried a few different positions and decided on reclined, arms behind his head, hat pushed forward and boots on the table. Fahrenheit snorted. 

“Not a word,” he growled at her. She shook her head and left, brushing shoulders with Cat on the way. 

“He’s all your’s Kitty Cat,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder as she retreated. Piper’s eyes widened at her derision and nerve but Cat ignored her. 

Hancock tilted his chin to look her up and down. She still wore the vault suit that first captured his attention but it was looking pretty worse for wear. It had been sewn in multiple places and the blue was faded from frequent washing in slightly irradiated water and harsh, homemade soap. Her armor was well maintained but the pieces didn’t match and she seemed to have a new puckered scar under her left ear. It looked like a claw mark. He also noticed a Minuteman insignia sewn onto the cuff of her brown leather jacket which really threw him off. She didn’t strike him as the Minuteman, lets-all-support-the-team, type. 

She bore his scrutiny with impunity, chin up and one hip thrown out, saying a brief, “Mayor Hancock” by way of greeting. Piper said nothing. 

“So, I see you’ve left your murderous horde at home this time.” He adjusted his hat and gestured to the opposite couch. Hancock watched her for a reaction but her face was totally peaceful and gave him nothing. She sat while Piper moved to stand behind her, arms folded and wearing a scowl worthy of Fahrenheit. “This bodyguard is less intimidating,” he continued when she didn't say anything. 

Cat chuckled, “More fool you.” She and Piper exchanged a smirk.

“What, does she have a fat boy hidden in that coat?” He teased. 

“She can answer for herself, thanks.” Piper sniffed, “but no, I don’t.”

“The pen is mightier than a sword, after all.” Cat murmured which earned her blank looks from both Piper and Hancock. 

“What?”

“I don’t have a sword either,” Piper shook her head and looked bemusedly at her friend. 

“Nevermind,” Cat sighed. 

“What can I do for you, ladies?” Hancock asked. 

Cat crossed her legs and leaned back against the couch. “I’m here on a diplomatic mission, Mayor Hancock. We have a proposition that should be mutually beneficial.”

“Well, can’t say I mind being propositioned, “ he wagged his eyebrows. Piper scoffed but Cat smirked at the innuendo, obviously intent on playing nice today. “I’m pretty sure when you say ‘we’ you don’t mean you and Piper.”

“You’re correct.” As she nodded a strand of white-blonde hair fell from her travel-worn braid. It distracted him as it laid against the milky softness of her neck. He’d never seen hair so white but so healthy looking...the juxtaposition was enthralling. 

“I mean the Minutemen," Cat continued, breaking the spell he was under. 

“I figured as much.” He indicated the patch on her cuff with a jerk of his chin, popping a mentat to try and stay sharp. “I'm just going to say this now; we're not joining the Minutemen. Goodneighbor stays unattached."

"Joining is not necessary." 

"Then, by all means, continue with the propositioning….let's get to the benefits...heh”

"Charming." Piper quipped.

"Always." Hancock threw a lazy smile at the high strung reporter.

“As I was saying,” Cat leaned over to snag a folded piece of paper out of the messenger bag at her ankle. “The Minutemen have been establishing settlements strategically across the Commonwealth and, partnered with several existing communities, we’re developing trade routes.” She unfolded the paper which turned out to be a map with red lines zigzagging across it. The lines spanned North and South, East and West but left a sizable gap through the heart of the city. He thought he saw where this was going. 

“Impressive,” He got up to grab glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “Piper, will you sit down please, you’re making me squirm. “

“Oooh, making the infamous Hancock uncomfortable. I’m flattered.” Piper snapped sarcastically and flopped down next to Cat, who ignored her, eyes still on Hancock. 

Hancock handed them both generous measurements of whiskey but they shook their heads at the offer of a mentat chaser. That was fine. Hancock didn’t mind indulging again without them. 

“As I’m sure you can see,” Cat nodded back at the map, “we’ve got a blank spot through the heart of the city. Caravans have to travel from Hangman’s Alley to the Castle, which is our main hub, in order to get to the northwest.” Her long black lashes brushing her cheek as she indicated the locations on the map. “We’re planning on expanding north and will eventually be able to bypass the city entirely, which is honestly ideal but in the interim time is of the essence for our developing settlements.” 

“You want your caravans to pass through here.” He finished for her in a less than enthused voice. Her lips press in a thin line as she took in his tone. 

“Yes, we would like Goodneighbor to be the central way station for our caravans going through the city and headed to the Northeast”

“Goodneighbor’s too far north. It’s out of the way,” Hancock leaned back and propped one foot up on the coffee table, playing coy. “Diamond City however….” He pointed toward the heart of the blank space. 

“Not an option.” She shook her head emphatically, her face darkening. 

'Huh, now that’s interesting,' Hancock thought. He took the time to light a smoke, observing her stormy face, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t see eye to eye with the Mayor of that….establishment,” Cat said evenly. Piper snorted. 

“Heh, me neither.” Hancock offered her a cigarette which she accepted leaning in for him to light it and glancing up through her lashes. His stomach lurched uncomfortably. He suddenly noticed that her cheeks were always slightly flushed pink-purple, like someone out in the cold too long. It really accented her high cheek bones. Was his mouth open? He looked away with a grunt and smoked in silence a few seconds, thinking things over. 

“There’s a problem with your plan, doll.” 

She cockered her head but waited for him to continue.

“Bunker Hill,” he continued. “We’re pretty solid trading partners and I’m not so sure how they would feel about us taking up with you all.”

“Ah, yes.” She nodded understandably, “Luckily, Bunker Hill is amenable to cooperating with the Minutemen." She took a sip of the whiskey. "Healthy competition and all that jazz.”

“Ha! How did your General pull that off?” He cackled. She simply stared at him, a furrow forming between her brows.

“Simply enough,” she said after a pause, tapping ash into the tray on the table. “They’re using our trade routes and settlements as way stations for their caravans.”

“That doesn’t cut into your profits?” he leaned forward to refill her whiskey glass. 

“It’s not about profit,” she said firmly, “It’s about stability. For the people...”

“...Of the people.” He grinned at her. Where had this woman been all his life? She smiled back, the first real smile he had seen and it was stunning, it really lit her silver eyes on fire. Was that a blush on those gorgeous cheeks? 

Or was she the most impressive manipulator in the wasteland? 

Probably the latter. Hancock mentally shook himself and remembered her contempt from the other just the other day and her anguish that he had accidentally seen. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would just let that go unpunished. He watched her take a healthy sip of the whiskey, giving him an eyeful of her long neck. He needed to be careful with this one. She was as dangerous as a corroded mini nuke. 

“Heh hem,” Piper coughed into her whiskey glass. “Moving on….”

Hancock realized he had been leaning toward her and sat back, taking a drink of whiskey and decided to put some mental and physical space back between him and the vault dweller. Time to pull out the asshole act and show her he wasn't so easily unhorsed. 

“I’m going to need to speak to the General directly,” He drawled. “I know they sent you but I really feel like I need to discuss this with the higher ups,” essentially dismissing her. 

Cat opened her mouth and then closed it, cocking her head to the side yet again. “I see…” her eyes narrowed. Piper shot her a look but kept silent for once. 

“No offense, sister.”

“None taken, I’m sure.” her voice deadly soft, her eyes calculating. 

Piper looked distinctly alarmed and took a gulp of her whiskey avoiding Hancock’s eye. Hancock waited good-naturedly, relieved that the icy chill was between them once again. Seconds ticked by in silence but he let the awkward quiet lengthen, unwilling to break it. The sooner he got away from this vixen the more level headed he would be. This plan was a good opportunity for Goodneighbor and he wanted to have his wits about him when they ironed out the details. 

“So, a meeting with the General?” he prompted after several minutes had passed. 

“That….could be arranged.” she finally said slowly. 

“Sweet sugar,” he said with a wink. “Bring your General here and then we’ll be in business.”

“No,” she said looking down at her almost spent smoke, flicking the ass in agitation. “You’ll have to come to the Castle if you want to have an official meeting.” She snuffed out her cigarette butt and waited for his response. 

“What, he or she doesn’t do house calls?” Hancock was slightly irritated at the thought of trekking out to meet General Fancy-Pants when it was his town they wanted to use after all. But he would play ball, the prize was too good. 

Cat smiled frigidly, “Only for those she considers friends, Mayor Hancock.” Piper took another sizable gulp of whiskey and choked. Cat patted her back, perfectly composed. 

He frowned, “Fine. Tell this General -eh” he raised an eyebrow.

“General Lewis,” she interjected. 

“General Lewis,” He repeated. “We’ll be there in about a week. Does that work for her you think?” 

“I’m sure it does.” Cat set her cup on the table and stood to go. “Thank you for your time, Mayor Hancock.” She left without waiting to hear him say goodbye. 

Piper followed her out of the room and he heard nervous laughter from the reporter once they got out on the street. He didn’t like that one bit. 

She sure was a piece of work, this Cat woman, he thought. One day she’s pissed that she can’t bring her super mutant pal in the gates and the next she’s sharing his whiskey while offering him the deal of a lifetime. Being a way station for the Minutemen would double Goodneighbor’s trade, maybe even triple it. He would see that Daisy and Kleo stayed the main traders in town but they could expand their businesses. It meant stability for his people and better access to food and clean water. It meant wealth. Goodneightbor could rival Bunkerhill in trade and maybe even Diamond City one day. It wouldn't just be a shit hole for druggies anymore. The Minutemen throwing in with them gave them credence that he couldn't create on his own. However this General Lewis was, he really owed them a lot. It was a deal he just couldn’t turn down, even if it was handed to him by what he was now considering the most dangerous woman in the Commonwealth. 

At least to him, anyway. 

The way she had gotten under his skin so fast! One second he was uneasy about her thinking he was a tyrant and then she’s all warm smiles and lucrative deals, making him feel like he’d been allowed in her secret club. Well, one warm smile that is. His stomach flipped again and he tried to ignored it. 

It was fucking unnerving is what it was. She played him like a fiddle and if he didn’t want what she offered soo bad he wouldn’t go near her with a ten-foot pole. It was a damn good thing that he would be dealing with General Lewis from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it bother anyone else that you can't establish trade with Goodneighbor in the game? I'm all like, "The world is a mess and I just... need to rule it."


	4. Cat's Out of the Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Hancock strike a deal and strike up a friendship.

Chapter 4:

Hancock was whistling as they walked along. Shit, he missed this. This was living. Walking in the sunlight all day, shooting whatever needed to be shot. He had blood under his fingernails, jet in his bloodstream and sunshine on his skin. It was a good fucking day. 

Fahrenheit seemed to disagree. 

“It’s fucking hot.” she huffed. 

“Well, yeah. You’re wearing full armor, dipshit.” he wouldn’t let her pull down his high. 

Her scowl intensified, “Not all of us can prance around in historical fucking regalia, John.” 

“But we all wish we could,” he said with a smirk worthy of a king. Well, a zombie king at least. “Now quit whining, we’re almost there.”

He gestured to the hulking granite building on an out jut of land. Even from a distance, they could make out its disrepair and tiny Minutemen flags flying from its summits. Fahrenheit grumbled about it being a piece of gray shit as the group moved off towards the building. Hancock had decided to bring five of his best members of The Watch as well as Fahrenheit. 

They reached the Castle as the sun was starting to set behind them, casting long shadows on the gray walls. Two guard posts adorned each side of the gate that was thrown wide open. When they announced themselves a man came forward to meet them immediately. 

“Saw you coming a mile off,” boasted the tall man. “We’ve got great visibility.” He reached for Hancock’s hand. “ You must be Mayor Hancock. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Preston Garvey.” 

Hancock and company said their hellos and even Fahrenheit stayed only mildly offensive as Garvey wrung everyone's hands and led them into a courtyard which blared the classical music of Radio Freedom. Garvey just about bubbled with pride at the sight of the Minuteman flag flying over the site. 

“We appreciate the tour and all but I think we’re pretty damn beat from the road.” Hancock interrupted. “Maybe my guys could go catch some grub and rest while I meet with General Lewis?” 

“Of course, we have tons of space.” Garvey led them to another section of the Castle where Hancock saw that his men would get properly fed. Only then did he allow Garvey to take him to the General’s office. He motioned at Fahrenheit to come along. 

“She has her lieutenant and I have mine.” he said as he waved her on. 

“Ah, you got me all choked up over here,” her voice was heavy with sarcasm but he could tell she was pleased all the same. 

They followed Garvey through a stone passage, past barracks, the mess hall, trading posts and a make-shift medical center. All and all, it looked pretty well established. When they came to a stop in front of two solid oak double doors, Hancock reflected that the entrance had a bit more pomp than his dusty rooms. Garvey opened the doors and ushered them in. He apologized for keeping them waiting and said the General was just finishing up some business and would be right there. 

“Late to her own party,” Hancock said as he threw himself into one of the wooden chairs situated at the far end of a large desk. He took in the room as Fahrenheit stationed herself at the door, brooding in the darkest corner she could find. The room was large, completely stone and windowless. Fancy pre-war light fixtures shined down on elegant furniture. A large drapery split the room in half, with what he assumed was a living quarter behind it. To the left of the desk was a stairway leading downward and to the right was a plush couch in great condition. A liquor cart was pushed up against the wall next to the couch and had, honest to goodness, real fucking crystal decanters of amber liquid. 

“She does herself up good, this General Lewis,” Hancock muttered, already eyeing the liquor. Fahrenheit grunted in response. 

He was just starting to get itchy fingers when the handle of the door started turning and he stood, arms crossed, waiting to intimidate the other leader. First impressions matter. 

In walked Cat. 

Alone. 

“Hello, Mayor Hancock. It’s nice to see you again.” 

Hancock gaped at her like an idiot, realizing his mistake almost immediately. 

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Cat said as she walked around the desk and seated herself in the high-backed chair. “I just received some startling news that had to be dealt with immediately.” 

“Shit.” Fahrenheit cursed from behind him, jarring him back to the present. And he was pissed.

He laughed darkly, “Well, aren’t you a clever cat.”

She raised her eyebrows, “I beg your pardon?”

He was beyond pissed. No one made John Hancock look like a fool and got away with it. 

“You know, I have a mind to walk away from this fucking deal right now. I don’t like being lied to and this is a seriously fucked up way to make an ally.”

She had the decency to blush, “No deception was intended when I met with you, Mayor Hancock. I assumed you knew.”

“Yeah, and when it became apparent that I didn’t?” he growled. 

She leveled her gaze at him, “I must admit I’m not above a little petty revenge.” 

His mouth gaped open again. 

“Shit.” Fahrenheit cursed again. 

“Is this about the super mutant?” he stammered. 

“Strong? No.” She got up and poured three drinks at the liquor cart. “Fahrenheit, will you take a seat? You’re making me squirm.” She winked at Hancock but he was still far from amused. Fahrenheit didn’t budge so Cat set the drink carefully on the desk in front of the empty seat. 

“What then?” he asked. 

“I guess I was pissed that you a) assumed I wouldn’t come to you in person immediately and b)that you didn’t even consider the possibility that I was, well, me.” She sipped her drink and waited patiently for his response. He thought back to their conversation and inwardly cringed. Had he really been so dense? Yep, pretty much. 

He grabbed his drink and sat back. “Alright, so you felt scorned and I’m a fucking fool. Is your appetite for revenge satisfied.”

She smiled coldly, “Hardly. But towards you? Yes.” 

He sat silently, still steaming and she knew it. 

She sighed, “I’m sorry, Mayor Hancock. I can be a bitch sometimes. Perhaps we can start over?” Her eyes looked at him earnestly and unveiled. 

He nodded, still wary. He took a drink and promptly coughed. “That’s a strong vintage, sister.” he glanced into the cup. 

She smiled, “Maybe we can get some of Charlie’s whiskey via our new trade routes. This stuffs one good winter from turpentine I’m afraid.”

“You can say that again, damn.” he set the glass on the desk. “I’ve got some requests before we get started, hopefully, we can iron this deal out pretty quickly.” 

“Request away.” She said fanning her hands out earnestly. 

And he did. 

Hours later they were still leaning over the map, making the final corrections as to which caravan paths would be rerouted into Goodneighbor. Preston had joined them and was sitting next to Cat, who he seemed to almost revere. Fahrenheit had retreated to the couch but had put her wisdom in when she deemed they were about to fuck everything up. Hancock’s red frock coat was draped over the back of his chair and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing pitted but muscular arms. Cat had long since removed her bulky armor and returned in flannels and jeans. 

“I still say that Covenant should come through Goodneighbor directly,” Preston insisted. 

“They should stop in Bunker Hill. I know it’s close by but it’s not exactly fair to bypass them.” Cat said squinting at the map, holding a hand over her eyes to block some of the direct light from the lamp. 

“Especially when that arm of the caravan hits Tenpine’s Bluff and Outpost Zimo- whatever you call it. Lot’s of food would be passing them by.” Hancock said in agreement. “I’m still concerned that the northwest is kinda jumbled.” His finger ran along the map. “All those settlements and only one route down through the city? It seems to me that’s setting up a pretty shaky situation.”

Cat cupped her hand around her neck, frowning. Hancock was temporarily distracted. “Go on..”

“If a bunch of raiders hit here,” he pointed to Cambridge. “They would essentially cut off the north at the river. Or if they set up here,” he pointed at Allston. “They could cut off the north and the west.” 

“Isn’t most of your farmland in those regions?” Fahrenheit asked. 

“Shit, they’re right Preston,” Cat said, shaking her head with a chagrined smile on her face. 

“Here’s what I would suggest…”Hancock leaned in and traced two routes that eventually converged into one at Oberlin Station instead of Graygarden. “That way if the north is blocked, the east is still open.” 

Cat beamed at him and he had to drop his gaze, thankful no one could see the heat in his face. “Preston? What do you think?” 

“It’s a defensive maneuver that could save us a lot of hassle down the line.” He nodded and smiled as well. “I like it.”

The meeting broke up shortly after that. Both factions seemed pleased and Hancock couldn’t quite keep his eyes off the General. She seemed...thawed out with Preston here, on her turf. She still was a powerhouse that got what she wanted. Luckily for him, was she wanted was a just deal that benefited both sides. And that's what she got. 

Fahrenheit had already left and Preston was gathering his things. Hancock was finishing up his smoke and eyeing the small woman who was sitting on the couch opposite him. She joked with Preston warmly, something about a woman named Mama Murphy, and then bid him goodnight. Hancock went to snub out his cigarette and follow suit. She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling. 

“It truly was a pleasure doing business with you, Mayor Hancock,” she said while they shook hands. 

“Ah, drop the ‘Mayor’ already.” He smiled down at her, the alcohol buzzing nicely and loosening his guard considerably. Her smile widened. She was obviously glad no hard feelings remained from her earlier deception. 

“How about a nightcap?” she asked.

“A what?” she lost him. 

“One last drink.”

uh oh, he knew where that could lead. Ah well, you only live once. 

“Sure, sister, " he settled back into his seat. 

“Tell me about yourself, Hancock.” she nearly purred. 

“Ah, yeah. My favorite subject.” he stuck to the general story; asshole brother, drugs, ghoulification, ending with the political coup. She listened well, was sympathetic, and asked all the right questions at the right times. 

She topped off his glass and then her own. He swallowed a gulp of it and felt it burn all the way down. She drank from her glass and crinkled her nose at the burn. She had a cute nose. 

'Whoa there, John.' he thought, 'might be time to leave.' 

“You hold your liquor pretty well for a stick-up-their-ass Minuteman.” he teased, ignoring his inner dialogue and smirking at her. 

“What?” she said laughing. “Hancock, I think you might be drunk.”

“Nah just buzzed. Unlike you.”

“Yes, well. Age has its benefits.” her smile now had a hard edge. 

“I definitely have you beat there.” he chuckled. "I'm pushing 40 at least. I least I think I am. I stopped counting about five years ago or so."

“Hancock, I was drinking before your great-great grandfather was a twinkle in his mother’s eye,” she wasn't smiling anymore, just turning the whiskey glass slowly in her hand, frowning at the contents. 

He stared at her confused but so very drawn in. Her skin was impossibly smooth and pale, glowing like milk, without so much as laugh lines. Her gray eyes looked bluer in the dim light and her white-blonde hair was snaking around her neck in a thick braid. And she was just so….alien compared to the other women he knew. It was fascinating and compelling. And, against his better judgment, he was compelled. No, what she was saying did not make sense with what he was seeing. 

“I think you know that I have no idea what you mean,” he said quietly. 

Cat sighed, “I know....but it's too late for that story, though.” 

She swallowed the rest of her drink in one swig and turned to him expectantly. He realized he was sitting in her bedroom as well as office and that she suddenly wanted him gone. He finished his drink and was just barely able to keep a straight face. The stuff was toxic, honestly the worst he’d had in years. 

“Well, night.” He said, “And thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She said sounding sad. He looked at her face and saw a tiny sliver of the pain he witnessed before. He blinked and it was gone. 

“Still, thanks.” he turned to go. 

“Goodnight, Hancock.” her soft voice called after him.


	5. When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter with a lot of information. Also, drunk MacCready forgets to keep his mouth clean.

Hancock probably should have headed to the barracks where the rest of the group from Goondnighbor was bedding down for the night but as he was passing the open doorway to the courtyard he caught sight of MacCready nursing a beer at the little bar. There were a few other patrons still enjoying one of the last warm nights of the autumn but no one else was sitting at the round table with McCready. He and Hancock knew each other passingly well and he seemed pleased to share a drink with someone. 

 

“So did the planning session go okay then?” MacCready asked taking a chug of his beer.

 

Hancock raised his eyebrows, “So that’s just common knowledge, huh?”

 

“Nah, not really. I just know the boss.” MacCready joked good-naturedly. Something about the familiarity in the merc’s voice irked him.

 

Hancock leaned in, sensing an opportunity for more information about the elusive Cat. “She a good boss to work for then? You trust her?”

 

“With my life,” he answered easily. “I had my doubts at first, what with her past an’ all, but she’s the real deal.” 

 

“Right,” said Hancock, “the whole vault thing. It’s hard to imagine someone growing up so sheltered being the General of the Minutemen.”

 

MacCready looked at him funny, “But she grew up…..damn, you don’t know?”

 

“Know what?” Asked Hancock, feeling irritatedly out of the loop. 

 

“She isn’t just from a vault, she’s-”

 

“Can it, MacCready!” yelled a sharp voice from behind Hancock’s chair. 

 

MacCready jumped, “Shit, Piper! You’ll give a guy a heart attack.” 

 

Hancock Leaned back in his chair to survey the untimely intruder. “Want to join us, Piper? Or do you just wanna eavesdrop?”

 

Piper slid into the chair between them with a scowl. “It’s a good thing I was eavesdropping! That’s no one's business but Cat’s!” She glared at MacCready, whose eyes narrowed in response. 

 

“You just don’t want anyone knowing until she’ll give you that stupid interview.” he shot back, clearly annoyed. 

 

Piper looked indignant. “We’ve talked purely off the record. Some loyal friend you are. If she wanted to give me a private interview I wouldn’t say no obviously, but..”

 

MacCready smirked and wiggled his eyebrows over the brim of his glass, “I’ll give you a private interview anytime you want, Piper.”

 

“In your dreams, kid.” She stomped off in a huff. 

Hancock watched her go and then signaled to the bartender to bring them another round. 

“So, where she really from then?” Hancock whispered conspiringly. 

 

MacCready glanced around guiltily and then leaned in. “She’s pre-war man.”

 

Hancock sat back and leveled the merc with a glare. “Alright, don’t tell me, but you don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

 

MacCready sloshed some beer out of his glass. “I’m telling the honest-to-caps truth! She was born before the war! And I mean THE war, Hancock. She had a husband and a son and a little house with a white fu-freaking fence.”

 

Hancock was still dubious, “Well, she’s the best-looking ghoul I’ve ever seen.”

 

MacCready shook his head, “No, she’s not a ghoul. She and her family were frozen alive down in that damn vault. Vault 111. For 200 freaking YEARS, man.” He shook his head and downed the rest of the beer. 

 

Hancock signaled for another one. “MacCready, if I didn’t know you were mostly a man of your word I would beat your ass for making fun of me.”

 

“I’m not shitting you, Hancock.” MacCready chugged down half of the new beer in one go. “And it gets even more fucked." he stopped correcting his cursing as he got progressively drunker. "She wakes up, okay? And there’s this asshole trying to take her baby son from her half frozen husband. He struggles and the merc puts one through his forehead.” MacCready pointed his forefinger to his temple. “And then these bastards take her son! All while she’s still stuck in the fucking freezer.”

 

“Shit,” Hancock said, still not entirely sure how to take this story. 

 

“Yeah.” MacCready continued, slurring his words a bit. “Then she wakes up for the second time to all this shit.” He gestured vaguely around his head. 

 

“Then what?” Hancock asked. 

“Well, I’m hazy on the timeline but she eventually found that fucker and put a bullet through his head. Valentine was with her then. They tugged some shit out of his brain and found out that her kid is ten-fucking-years-old. And worse, the Institute has him. They’re the ones that kidnapped him.”

 

“That’s some seriously fucked-up shit,” Hancock said. He hated to admit it but this insane, impossible story explained some things. 

 

“Yeah. She’s trying to fly under the Institute's radar. That’s why she’s keeping it quiet.”

 

“Was trying to anyway. She obviously never should have told you, MacCready.” said yet another voice behind Hancock.

 

MacCready jumped and looked guiltily at Nick Valentine. “Shit!”

 

“Her secret’s safe with me, Nicky,” Hancock promised. “It’s all true then?”

 

“Unfortunately yes.” Nick sat down. “She hired me after being out of the vault about three months. We’ve been on the Institute's trail ever since. We’re heading out tomorrow morning for...well...to hunt down some supplies. Taking Piper with us.”

 

MacCready stirred. “So you’re the one with the important ‘news’?”

 

“No, that wasn’t me. One of her more shadowy friends tipped her off that The Brotherhood was going to make an unplanned visit tomorrow and she wants to be scarce.”

 

“Again?” MacCready shook his head. “Some guys can’t take no for an answer.”

“She on the bad side of The Brotherhood?” Hancock asked, genuinely impressed. 

 

“Something like that.” Nick shot MacCready a warning look as the kid went to open his mouth, smirking. “You’ll have to ask her to hear about that one. MacCready, you’re looking awful tired. Why don’t you let me pour you into a bed? Night, Hancock.” 

 

“Night, Nick. MacCready.” Hancock watched Valentine march a swaying MacCready out of the bar. His head felt like hell and he needed to catch a few hours of sleep before they headed home in the morning. And to be honest, his brain felt a little waterlogged after all the information he had just learned. He needed to process. 

 

 

 

The next morning, Hancock and his group met up in the courtyard, all prepared to set out when they were met by a flustered Preston. 

 

“General Lewis wanted to see you all off but she had to head out early this morning.” He shook his head. “Detective Valentine showed up about 4 am and they headed out not long after that with Piper.” 

 

“Huh,” was all Hancock could say, wondering again why Cat was ducking The Brotherhood.

“Anyway,” Preston adjusted his hat. “Our contingent will be along within two weeks to help with the changes we talked about. I’m sure the General or I will be by before the route’s in place as well.” They shook hands and parted.


	6. Cat Called

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock and Cat finally head out together.

Hancock savored the trip home despite the chill that had rolled in with hazy gray clouds. Gray like a certain pair of eyes that he was trying to not think about. Luckily, there was a lot to be done before the impending trade agreement could be functional and that mostly kept his mind busy. They needed better shelters and stock pins for the caravans. One of the empty warehouses needed to be converted to accommodate the traders, with Daisy and K.E.L.O heading up the process. A back door was added so that the caravans had a more direct route to the northeastern settlements, complete with new guard posts and turrets (compliments of the minutemen). And, lastly, an apartment was set aside for the use of Minutemen traveling through the commonwealth. He pulled out all the stops in the space that he envisioned Cat inhabiting sometime in the future and somewhere in the back of his mind he felt alarms going off but he ignored them, content to focus on the work. When all was done, and the arrival of the General was imminent, John began to get antsy. Fahrenheit mumbled about school boy crushes but Hancock ignored her also.

All being said and done, it was nothing short of disheartening to see the Minutemen come through the gates, sans the General. Preston was standing in for her. He apologized for her absence briefly and ‘oohed and awed’ over the construction but John’s heart was suddenly not in it. He smiled and nodded and accepted praise where praise was due. His city had busted its ass the last two weeks and he was proud of them, but he had envisioned showing his work off to a pair of shining gray eyes. Cat’s truancy didn’t seem to phase anyone else and that only made him more agitated. He really didn’t know what to do with himself. 

 

Goodneighbor threw one hell of a party out on the main street to celebrate the advent of the trade agreement and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Everyone except John Hancock. He hid it pretty well and was as jovial and loose with his drugs as ever, but he wasn't as flirtatious or as interested in the gossip. There were many disappointed young women that night when he eventually slipped away.

He stumbled, cursing, into the dark State House and grumbled at the cold and dank feel of his room. He needed a roaring fire, some med-x, and a long nap to get him out of his current funk. Just as he was rummaging around in his desk a lamp flared to life. 

 

“You really need to get some power in this place.”

 

Hancock spun around to see Cat sitting in an armchair, smoking a cigarette. 

“Fuck, I could have shot you.” he growled, more agitated than ever. 

“No, you couldn’t have.” she laughed. 

He fished out the med-x he was after and sat opposite her, hiding his bewilderment at her sudden appearance. “Bit cocky if you ask me.” She grinned. “Can I ask why the hell you’re here?” He tried to hide how pleased he was to see her and how his eye roamed up and down her figure. He was just checking her wellbeing, he told himself. 

“I came to see that the trade agreement I slaved over was carried through, obviously.” She smiled at him innocently. 

 

“No, I meant here. As in my office.” Cat seemed happier and more relaxed than he had ever seen her. 

 

“Oh, I’m not really one for parties and official speeches and all that.” She winked. “I let Preston handle all that. He’s the friendly face, I’m the enigma.” 

 

“I know all about using enigma to my benefit.” He chuckled trying to appear at ease. 

 

Cat studied him and smirked, “Yes, I’m sure you do. But whereas you create a lasting impression on your enemies, John Hancock, I prefer ambiguity. If you stay out of the spotlight, you can maneuver through the shadows.” Her eyes danced in the reflected firelight. He wanted to swallow but found his throat to be dry. She was nothing short of lethal and he loved it. 

“So, what you’re saying is, I’m too flashy for you?”

 

She laughed, “Absolutely. I know where my talents lie and it’s not in a frontal assault.” 

 

“Heh,” was all he said, trying to decide if that was an innuendo. “I guess I should watch my back.”

 

“If you were the enemy then, yes.” She stretched and stood. “I can probably safely join the party now that everyone is drunk or high. I like to see what the word is on the street.” 

Cat started coiling her braid around the crown on her head before stuffing it all in a worn leather hat. She had shed her armor and vault suit for a plaid button up and jeans stuffed into dirty leather boots. She could be anyone but it didn't disguise her obvious good looks, it just made her seem less ostentatious. 

“Thanks for letting me hide in here.” 

 

“Next time maybe let me know, okay?”

 

“Oh, Fahrenheit knew. She didn’t tell you?”

 

He huffed a laugh, “No, but she’s fired.”

 

She laughed too and called over her shoulder. “Great, send her my way.” 

 

“Cat,” he called. She turned with her hand on the handle, eyebrow raised. “Who is the enemy?” He wanted to see if she would trust him with the truth. 

 

She just stared at him for a long moment before letting her hand drop from the door. “Are you sure you want to get into this right now?”

He stared at her pale, serious face and decided. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Cat walked back to the armchair and sat on the edge of it. “Why?”

Hancock propped his leg up on the coffee table. “It’s like this, gettin’ out of town the other day made me kinda itchy to travel some. Got to stretch my legs, stay fresh. I thought why not get to know what the Minutemen are up to out in the commonwealth?”

“You can leave Goodneighbor?”

John waved his hands, “Fahrenheit will cover for me. I’ve done it before.”

“So you want to come with me?” her face was expressionless. 

John was thankful that his blush was concealed in the dark. “Well, yeah. That’s an idea.”

Cat was still in the semi-darkness. She turned her face toward the shadow and contemplated the prospect. Hancock began to feel even more nervous as the seconds dragged by. 

“I don’t think,” she started slowly, “that would be a good idea.”

“All right,” he said gruffly, throat tight. “I’m sure I can figure something else-”

“Hear me out.” she cut across him. “I just don’t think it’s fair. You don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I do spend a lot of my time with the Minutemen but that’s not exactly….my main focus.”

He stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.

“Of course, you could always go back to the Castle with Preston if you want to work with the Minutemen.” She hesitated, glancing up at him through her lashes. 

“No, I think I want to hear you out.” 

“Alright." She sat down. "The enemy is the Institute. Everything I'm doing, and I do mean everything, is to help me find them and eventually destroy them." 

"Okay." Hancock let out a slow breath. "I guess I should tell you....MacCready might have spilled the beans on all of the backstory necessary here." 

Her spine straightened and her eyes narrowed. "That damn kid. He's lucky that he's halfway to D.C. right now or I would gut him."

"Easy now. I did get him pretty drunk." Hancock smiled at her ferociousness. He couldn't help it. 

Cat sighed, cooling off as quickly as she flared up. "In a way, I'm glad I don't have to go through it all again. It's not an easy subject for me to discuss." Her eyes glinted silver in the candlelight. "Are you sure you want to get involved in this? In all honesty, I will most likely fail. The Institute will probably kill everyone who helped me." 

"That's cheerful." Hancock popped a mentat in his mouth. "Look, the Institute is a problem for everyone. We've had people replaced. I want a piece of 'em." 

Cat smiled. "Welcome aboard then. I'm glad to have you watch my back. Feel free to bow out at any point." She added nonchalantly. 

Hancock couldn't keep a grin from cracking across his face. "I always do. So, where to first?"

"Sanctuary." She stretched and stood. "I'm leaving in about an hour. I can push it to two if need be but I don't want to wait too long." 

He tried to keep the surprise off his face. "Nah, I can be ready to go in an hour, sure."

"Excellent." She ghosted from the room with one more smile and a wink. 

 

It took him just shy of an hour to dreg up his old pack, buy some supplies from a very drunk Daisy, fill in a resigned Farhinhiet and make a quick speech to his inebriated constituents. All the while he was aware of Cat moving inconspicuously through the crowd, absorbing the local gossip and smirking at him when she caught him looking. 

When he reached the gate she was leaning against the wall talking to a man in a white t-shirt, jeans, black pompadour and, strangely, sunglasses despite the darkness of the hour. They both looked in opposite directions as they spoke and if he hadn't been paying such close attention to her he might have missed that they were conversing at all. When Cat saw him crossing towards her, the man and her exchanged one, grave look and he melted into the shadows. Hancock decided not to ask. She could have her secrets.

"You ready to get this freakshow on the road?" 

Cat nodded and led the way through the gate. He was surprised that she was still wearing the plaid shirt and, other than the hilt of a knife peeking out of her boot, no discernable gun, and no pack. She led him straight across from the gate of Goodneighbor into some ruins that often housed super mutants but appeared empty. 

"Just need a pit stop before we get going." Cat hopped over the counter and pulled a duffle bag out from under a busted computer. "I had a friend stash my normal tack out here." She unzipped the bag and began pulling out her vault suit. Cat gestured primly for him to turn around while she changed. 

"You sure walking around Goodneighbor that lightly armed was a good idea, sister?" He gazed back at the neon sign of his city. 

"I was surrounded by at least 15 of my best men." She responded. "And those were just the ones you knew about." Hancock frowned. "You can turn around now."

Cat finished buckling her armor on and started strapping on her holsters. She slipped the knife back into her boot, a silenced 10mm on her hip, a mean looking dagger on her opposite thigh and the sweetest looking sniper rifle across her back. 

"Ready!" she said cheerfully as she adjusted her pipboy one last time and they headed out into the darkness. 

The pair moved quietly through the dark and mostly sleeping city. Though it wasn't his typical mode of operation, he followed her lead and slunk around the edges of raider camps that he would have loved to raze to the ground. They made good time and were crossing the river just as the sun started to peak over the horizon. 

"Do you always travel at night?" he asked, breaking the silence between them. 

"No, but I prefer it when I'm going through the city." she scanned the quickly lightening landscape. "It should be pretty easy going from here, but I always end up eating those words." She sighed, "Let's take 15 and eat something."

"I could use a little excitement. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a deathclaw attack in the morning."

Cat laughed, "I hope you're joking."

He grinned crookedly at her, "Okay, well at least a molerat or two."

"How about mutfruit and some cram?" she handed him the food and went to sit in the shelter of a run down bus stop while they ate. It was going to be a sunny day and she pulled on dark sunglasses before they headed out. 

After giving the Cambridge crater a wide berth, Cat angled their path to the north and west. He had never really been in that part of the Commonwealth but knew it was mostly farms and raiders. Hancock was looking forward to experiencing a bit of new scenery with a few opportunities to shoot up some raiders and wildlife along the way. What he wasn't expecting was the sound of a vertibird humming above the low clouds, headed in their direction. 

Cat turned toward the sound. Hancock spotted the low-flying plane dipping below the clouds to their left. "Wouldn't expect them this far north," he commented offhandedly. 

Cat watched it with a suspicious face frozen in place. When it started to turn toward them she groaned and grabbed his arm. "Quick in here!" She yanked him into a small shack they had just scouted and crouched down out of sight. The vertibird circled overhead a few times and then headed south once more. Cat breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up. 

"Ya gonna explain that, sister?" Hancock eyed her paler than normal face. 

She looked embarrassed. "I just really want to avoid The Brotherhood knowing where I am.....At all times." Cat checked her pipboy and headed back out into the brush. 

Hancock listened to the sound of the plane drift away and then jogged to catch up, gently placing a hand on her arm and feeling a ridiculous amount of gratification when she didn't blanch at his touch. 

"Look, sweetheart, I know it might be none of my business but since we're traveling together I should probably know about your enemies, all of them. And why they're trying to kill you." Her face crumpled. "Just so I'm prepared. No judgment."

"Oh but I deserve judgment on this one." She checked a distant valley with her scope. "It was pretty stupid." 

"You screw a Paladin or somethin'?" He took a hit of jet and then gaped at her when she flinched. "No shit?"

"Worse. Elder Maxton and I had...a history." She actually blushed. "A very very very short history. I left rather abruptly. They aren't trying to kill me but he keeps trying to talk to me and there really isn't anything to say." Hancock still gaped at her, trying to adjust this new information into his mental image of who she was. It didn't compute. 

"Don't look at me like that. I'm disgusted with myself already." She muttered and kicked over a tin can with her foot. "When I got out of the vault I was disoriented and frankly willing to grasp for anything that made me feel safe. The Brotherhood offered power and protection. I thought they would help me find.....find Shaun." She swallowed. "I used everything I could get and Maxson was pretty easily manipulated......" She stopped to take out a bloatfly with her sniper. He was still dumbfounded. "He also reminded me of Nate, my husband. Just in looks, not in demeanor. Nate was ex-military. He would have taken to this new reality immediately and probably already found Shaun." Cat sighed and peered back at her pipboy. 

"So, what happened then? Why did you leave?" Hancock tried to keep his voice neutral but he sincerely hoped she wasn't still a fan of The Brotherhood of Steel. 

"Are you kidding me?" She looked a little pissed as she slung her rifle back over her shoulder. "They're a bunch of racist bigots. I guess you don't know me well enough but that doesn't sit well with me. They're terrified of what they don't understand and greedily hoard what they do. Once I calmed down a bit and adjusted to this all this, I saw that and left."

Hancock stopped to check out an abandoned tool box. "But I guess....if they were the best chance at finding your son...."

She snorted. "They aren't. I learned pretty quick that I was going to have to do this on my own. And then after meeting Nick and some ghouls. I really couldn't stomach them anymore. They might have been a good resource...but I want nothing to do with them." She pointed to a large square sign looking thing on the horizon. "That's Starlight Drive-In. We'll stop there for a rest."

Hancock nodded but couldn't stop himself from adding. "Most people wouldn't stick up for the ghouls and the synths." 

Cat stopped and turned to him, looking him straight in the eye. "When I first got out of the vault, right after leaving Preston in Sanctuary, I ran into some raiders. They looked like normal people, just rough around the edges so I decided to see if they would do some trading with me. They tried to rape me and then shot me in my leg as I ran away. The next person I found was a ghoul. I would be dead without the kindness he showed me. He cleaned and sewed up my leg, gave me food and sent me toward Diamond City. I should have trusted my gut when The Brotherhood first spouted their racist lies but I made a mistake. You can't take anything at face value out here. The most put together person I've met was Pickman and he's a fucking psycho." Her gray eyes glinted passionately and she pressed her lips together in determination. 

Hancock lowered his gaze. "Fair enough, sister." He watched her continue forward with her silver blonde hair glinting in the sunlight and her slender shoulders erect. Guess he didn't have to worry about her judgment after all. 

He realized in that moment that he was in serious trouble.


	7. Retrograde Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat's back story before meeting Hancock. Obviously this doesn't play by the rules.....but whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-did this chapter. It's not new but I felt like it really was rough and needed a face lift.

Cathrine Lewis clawed at her throat as she gasped for air. Her lungs projected the last of the freezing cloudy liquid onto the vault floor where it mixed with splatters of her blood, swirling around her fingertips and palms while she struggled to catch her breath. Nate's body was still frozen in his pod, slumped to the side, lifeless and stiff. Cathrine retched once more, bringing more fluid up from her lungs to mix with the blood from her hands. Her eyes stung in the bright light but she couldn't stop staring at her dead husband's empty gaze. 

 

Cathrine stood in the ruins of her old home, staring at herself in the cracked and spotted remains of her bathroom mirror. Behind her, she could hear the whirl and pop of Codsworth as he fussed. Her mind had struggled to comprehend what he had told her. That it had been over 200 years since she had entered that vault. That the world as she knew it was over. That all the people she knew and loved were dead and long ago had turned to ash. That anarchy reigned and there was no government, no police, no military, to help her find her son. 

"Mum', I think you should step inside and freshen up while I make you something to eat. You look dead on your feet and....there seems to be some blood on your face."

She had whipped at her face numbly, not knowing if it was her blood from her ruined hands or Nate's from the single bullet wound in his forehead. She had held him for so long that he had begun to thaw and his wound had wept. Cathrine had only then, sobbing, placed him back into his icy tomb. She knew she couldn't bury him on her own. 

Codsworth had led her to the bathroom and produced water and a dingy towel, apologizing and sputtering the whole way. Cathrine allowed herself to be placed before the mirror and had raised the towel to her face before she gasped and nearly lost what little grasp she currently had on reality. 

If she had any doubts that Codsworth was wrong, they were now gone. 

The 200 some odd years in cryostasis had changed her. While Cathrine's face was essentially the same, youthful, 26-year-old visage she remembered, her coloration was completely changed. She looked like a photograph of herself that someone had left out in the sun. Her once bright golden hair had become white-blonde and her vivid blue eyes were now gray, almost silver. She was always fair but now her skin looked translucent, tiny veins could be seen around her nose and at the corner of her white lips. The dim light coming off of the candles Codsworth had lit were hurting her sensitive eyes. There were hectic slashes of color- reddish purple- across her high cheekbones that could only be described as freezer burn.

Cathrine slept her first night in the Commonwealth curled into a ball on her ruined bathroom floor, watched over by her robot butler. She sobbed until her throat felt bloody. 

 

 

Cathrine stepped out of the power armor to shake the man's hand. She immediately put on sunglasses as her eyes hadn't adjusted to light outside the vault. Really, all of her hadn't adjusted. It had only been three days and she wasn't getting any closer to finding Shawn. She had almost died countless times and was getting sicker by the minute. 

Her milk had come in the first night away from Shawn, right in time for his 8 pm feeding. 

She had wanted to scream and kick and kill something. After 200 years, her body had been leeched of color but her mammary glands picked up right where she left off. That first day her breast just ached and leaked, which was annoying but she could cope with it pretty well as she scavenged supplies around the ruins of her neighborhood. But by the morning of the third day, she knew something was wrong. Her breasts were red and swollen and she felt feverish. What really concerned her was a quarter sized spot on her side that was bright red and had purple veins running from it. Cathrine remembered the nurses warning her to never abruptly stop breastfeeding because it could cause infections. She needed antibiotics. She needed other people. So she set out with a 10 mm pistol gingerly tucked into the back of a pair of scavenged jeans she had pulled on over her thin vault suit for added warmth. She was constantly cold. Codswoth hovered faithfully by her side.

It hurt to move and she could barely stand the feeling of fabric against her infected chest. Codswoth sobbed with frustration at his lack of first aid knowledge when she finally asked him what she should do because her breastmilk was now tinged bloody pink. 

She did find people as she stumbled into Concord. Angry people with bigger guns than her. And then angry lizard monsters that had kicked her in the chest which had hurt even through her power armor. But now they were all dead and she was safe with nice people. Except that her head felt so heavy and she really couldn't stand any longer. 

She let Codsworth do most of talking as she stumbled out of the power armor and into the arms of Preston Garvey, who caught her with many surprised apologies. Cathrine promptly lost consciousness at that point. 

Cathrine recovered from her infection with the help of Momma Murphy, who she could never ever repay for being the first pair of gentle and sympathetic hands she felt in the Commonwealth. That alone gave her hope she needed to strike out into the unknown after Shawn. Preston had given her some pointers on shooting and survival, which gave her the confidence that she wouldn't immediately die. The addition of a faithful and ferocious (and somehow purebred) German Shepard she loving christened, Dogmeat, gave her the courage. 

Before she left Preston pulled her aside. 

"We all pitched in to get you this as kind of a going away present." He handed her a sniper rifle. "You can use this to keep things from getting too close. Play to your strengths. You always have a home here after you find your boy, Cat." She thanked him and gave him a quick hug which he returned awkwardly. 

He hesitated and then went on, "Look, I know you need help and I wish I was in a position to go with you but....I've heard The Brotherhood of Steel has been seen in the Cambridge area. My dad always said they're real good guys out of the Capital Wasteland. They've got advanced technology, the works. Maybe see if they can help." 

Cat nodded, shouldered her rifle and headed to Cambridge. She really didn't have any other leads. 

 

 

Paladin Danse shifted slightly behind her as she looked out over the coast of Boston. The destruction didn't look so bad up here. She could almost pretend that nothing had happened. That she was flying into Logan airport from visiting her grandparents in Florida, looking down on the skyline from the safety of an airplane, like she had countless times in her youth. 

Danse shifted again. She had been with him long enough to know that he was nervous about introducing her to Elder Maxson. Most likely it was because she had toed the line between refusing to actually join the Brotherhood and just giving him enough of a positive to keep her position with him. They had been traveling together for three weeks or more now and she was beginning to run out of ways to evade his blunt questions. Cathrine was going to have to join soon or look for help finding Shawn elsewhere. Danse was a good man but he wasn't going to do anything without the sanction of The Brotherhood but the constant ethnic cleansing rhetoric held Cat back from joining. 

It reminded her of the racial hysteria pre-war. They had a couple who lived a few doors down who had been second generation immigrants from Korea. She would never forget the look on the wife's face when the  
soldiers came knocking on their door....

No, she wouldn't join The Brotherhood of steel until she couldn't figure any other way of getting their help. And while Danse and been sympathetic and had passed on her story and pleas for help to Maxson, she was rapidly running out of options. But then Elder Maxson had appeared in his flying blimp and summoned them to him as luck would have it.

Danse shifted again. 

Cathrine sighed, "Why are you so keyed up, Danse?"

"Civilians are not often brought to the Elder, I told you that" Danse muttered. 

Cat smiled at him slightly, "Are you concerned for me? I'm flattered, Paladin."

He frowned, "I'm just uncomfortable with the new protocol."

"Maybe that means he'll help me."

Danse looked away. "I have told him everything we have surmised."

"And that we think the Institute took Shawn?" she prompted. 

"Yes," he still wouldn't look at her. 

"But you don't think he'll help me." Cat said, "Not really, do you?"

Danse's jaw tightened and he looked down at her, "I think Elder Maxson will make the best decision for the fate of the Commonwealth and the Brotherhood, Cathrine."

Cat blinked at him, "Wow." 

"What?"

"You should be a politician, Danse." Danse groaned and put his face in his hand. "No, really. That was some eloquent bullshit." Cat wanted a cigarette. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the railing, looking hard at the big Paladin. He had a least a foot on her. 

He dropped his hand, his brown eyes suddenly showing all the concern he had been hiding from his features since they received the summons. "Cat, in all seriousness," he whispered suddenly, "Maxson is not a man to mess around with. Try to hold it together. Be respectful. If he wants to help you, it also means he wants something from you. Don't give him anything you aren't willing to loose."

Cathrine opened her mouth to respond but stopped at the sound of approaching steps. She turned her eyes to take in Elder Maxson and felt her throat tighten.


	8. Cat at Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat let's her hair down. Hancock get's jealous. The two are not related.

Sanctuary was pretty much exactly what Hancock was expecting but what surprised him was how much it met his expectations. It’s not every day you see what you imagined made real.

As they crossed the bridge over the river all he could really make out was a few repaired buildings behind a sprawling cement wall. There were more turrets than he cared to count and all the guard posts were manned. The guard outside the massive barred gate recognized Cat and immediately called out to others below and the doors were thrown open in welcome. If it wasn’t so late at night he felt sure they would have been mobbed by her many admirers as they passed through. As it were, she introduced him to the few guards who were around and then led him deeper into the settlement.

It was...quaint. The kind of place you would expect to see kids running around and cats sunning themselves. The houses were all in various stages of being rebuilt and new buildings had sprung up where old housing foundations had been bare. John could see farmland down by the river and lots of generators hummed through the night air. There was a small town square of sorts where the road looped around a huge oak tree and a number of small business sat quiet and empty. He could even see an open air bar set up on an empty foundation; the bartender was just shutting down for the night and raised a hand in greeting as they passed. Electric light spilled out from several of the buildings and there were street lamps every ten feet or so. A door creaked open and they caught the sound of laughter before it slammed shut again. It was a regular fucking oasis. 

John looked sideways and caught Cat watching him. She looked away quickly. 

“What do you think?” she said evenly.

He bit back a grin, “It’s real nice sunshine. You’ve cut yourself out a little piece of heaven.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes but he thought he noticed an extra spring in her step as she patted the brahmin fondly who was pinned outside the common house. 

Hancock hesitated, “So, I’ll meet up with you in the morning?” He made to enter the common house. Cat look confused. 

“Oh, I have a spare room if you…” she cocked her head to the side and gestured further up the road. 

“I don’t wanna intrude,” he muttered, feeling weirdly awkward. 

“Not at all!” Cat said brightly and bounced forward to take his hand. John was both incredibly surprised that she initiated touching his ruined skin and horrified by the explosion of feeling in his stomach at her touch. 

Cat had chosen a house the overlooked the river for her home. It wasn't her original home, she explained to Hancock as they entered, she couldn’t stay in that house. 

“There were just too many memories and I always loved the view from this house.” She lit a lamp and hesitated, lowering her voice, “Piper and her little sister, Nat, live with me but I don’t think they’re here currently. Help yourself to anything you want. I’ll show you the spare room.”

She led him to one of four bedrooms, still holding his hand, and left him with the lamp before slipping away with a quiet, “night!”

He surveyed his room. It consisted of a twin bed with a cozy looking patchwork quilt, side table, desk with chair, wash basin and dresser. Honestly, better furnished than his shabby digs at home. And it looked clean, meticulously cared for and well maintained. He shed his travel clothes and then decided he really needed to wash up. He grabbed the pitcher from the basin and excited the room. 

In the hallway, he heard the sound of voices and light streaming out from under what he assumed was Cat’s bedroom door. He paused for the slightest second before knocking when he realized one of them was male. Hancock swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. There was a hushing sound and then Cat quickly opened the door. The room was empty behind her so whoever it was with her was standing off to one side.

“Uh, hey.” Hancock started lamely. 

Cat smiled slightly, “Hey….Need something?”

“Yeah, sorry. Where can I get water?”

“Oh! Sorry, there’s a pump around back for filtered water.”

“T-thanks,” she closed the door before he could even get the word fully out. 

 

Well, he thought as he trudged through the dark weeds to the pump, she was the best-looking thing he had seen this side of a daytripper binge and it really shouldn’t surprise him that she had some secret lover. Obviously, she hadn’t been expecting this guy to show up or she would have told him to stay at the common house and now she was trying not to make him uncomfortable. Hancock decided to give them some privacy and be a decent house guest so he sat on a lawn chair a lit up a cigarette, plus he really didn’t want to hear anything. 

Now that he knew she was totally beyond even his most imagined reach, he wasn’t so afraid to face those feelings he been stuffing deep down. They couldn’t amount to anything now and therefore it was safe to examine how close to disaster he had come. It was understandable that he was attracted to her, she was like one of the pictures in a pre-war magazine; fresh and pure with curves in all the right places but still somehow slight. But he was kidding himself if he said it wasn’t something else about her that was enticing him now; he had gotten a taste and was starting to get a craving for her. That was really dangerous and so it was better really that she was totally beyond even his wildest dreams, not that she would look at him twice anyway. 

He was, after all, a burned out junkie who ran a hole for other burned out junkies to sleep off a hangover. And she had all of this….and whoever was in her bedroom right now. He should be content to be her friend and travel companion or whatever.

No, Cat was like a picture, beautiful and captivating and definitely not meant for him. 

 

Hancock smoked for another half hour before he saw a dark shape leave from the front door of the house. He had pretty good eyesight at night, being a ghoul, but he really couldn’t make out much about him other than it looked like he had dark hair. The guy stuck to the shadows and oddly, climbed over the wall when one of the guards was looking the other way, which seemed like a lot of energy to waste after getting laid but whatever. To each their own post-coital rituals. He snuck in and ghosted to bed. Cat's room was dark and silent. He went to sleep without washing, committed to nothing but friendship with the woman in the room next to him. 

 

It took John a few seconds to figure out where he was when he woke to sun streaming in over a patchwork quilt and the smell of frying bacon. He stretched and groaned as his tight muscles and sinew popped. His head was pounding from the ever familiar mentat withdrawal but he had plenty in his coat pocket. Dressed and mentally awake thanks to a grape mentat under his tongue he steeled himself to meet the boyfriend, who he assumed Cat was making breakfast for. 

So to say he was shocked when he found an old woman wearing some sort of turban cooking breakfast with one hand and shooting up medX with other would be an understatement. 

“Helllllo handsome.” she quipped and winked at him while flipping eggs. “I see you got your beauty sleep.” She set a glass of mug of warm hubflower tea in front of him. 

“Couldn’t let you down, sweetheart,” shot back John, never one to back down from a flirt. He slid into the barstool at the kitchen island where she set the tea. 

“Oh, and a charmer too! Let’s get you outta those clothes.”

John choked on his first sip, “At least buy me a dinner first!” 

A clear laugh came from the doorway. John turned and had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. There stood Cat, silhouetted in the doorway, laundry basket on hip, hair curling down to her elbows and wearing a pink cotton dress that blew around her knees in the mid-morning breeze. She looked like some pre-war soap commercial in a copy of Picket Fences he had back in his office. He cleared his throat and let out a wolf whistle. 

Friends can tease each other, right?

Cat blushed. “She already stole all my clothes and left me with this, “ she said indicating the dress. "And I'm freezing by the way!" she directed the last part toward the old woman. 

The old woman cackled, “If I had those legs I would wear even less, Sugar.”

Cat shook her head and kissed the old woman’s cheek before turning to Hancock, “Mama Murphy, this is John Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor.  
She bent to pick up the basket and walk down the hallway, “Oh, and what was it, Sexy King of the Zombies?” She smirked over her shoulder and he pretended not to trace the curve of her legs with his eyes. She wasn’t wearing shoes. 

He turned back and met Mama Murphy’s knowing eyes.

“Uh-oh. I know that look.” She grinned. 

“I don’t know what yer talkin about,” he said gruffly thankful that he couldn’t blush.

“Yeah, well, she won’t either if you go give me all your dirty laundry!” Mama Murphy brandished her spatula at him until he dodged out of her reach chuckling. In the end, he refused to give her his coat and flag belt but she didn’t out him to Cat despite many whispered threats. John finally found himself in borrowed clothes eating eggs and bacon when Cat emerged from her room again. Mama Murphy set a plate in front of her and then happily left with John’s laundry. 

“Sorry about that. She can be a little intense but she really means well.”

“I can tell. Pretty sure I gotta bruise from that spatula when I couldn’t cough up an even number of socks.”

"Her and Codsworth typically fight over who gets to iron my underwear. It's just plain bizarre."

John choked on a piece of egg. "W-who the h-hhell is Codswoth?" he coughed out. 

"My robot butler from 200 years ago."

John stared at her for a second. "My, what a strange life you lead." 

Cat chuckled. John tried and failed, to keep his eyes off the hemline of her dress that was resting at about mid-thigh. 

“She saved my life when I first got out of the vault. Mama Murphy.”

“No shit?”

Cat nodded, “I was really sick. It was an infection in my...uh because I had to stop feeding Shawn so fast.” Her cheeks got red. John remembered hearing that people before the war were weird about talking about stuff like that. That it was all hush-hush. 

John nodded.

“I had no idea what to do. I would have died right then.”

“She’s a peach.”

Cat finished eating and nodded. “Oh, also. I found this outside this morning.” She retrieved the pitcher from his wash basin. 

“Oh shit!” Hancock smacked his head. “I smoked for quite awhile outside and forgot it.”

Cat raised her eyebrows at him. “But I thought you went outside for water?”

“I did but then I decided to stay awhile…..since it sounded like you had some company.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She didn’t say anything. “Must have forgotten it.”

He glanced at her but her face was carefully blank. 

“I didn’t realize….” she paused, took a breath and then continued, “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. Sometimes I have meetings late.....but that one was private”

So it was some secret love affair then. He couldn’t help it, his chest ached. 

“It’s none of my business, sunshine,” he said too offhandedly. She didn’t say anything, frowning at the hem of her dress. 

He couldn’t stop himself, “Still, seems weird that you’re sneaking around so much, though.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?” she asked quietly, her arms folded across her chest. 

He read the warning signs but just kept right on talking. “You’re a grown woman, he’s a grown man, I’m assuming, what’s the problem. Do ya just have a kink for secrets rendezvous?”

She turned pale with just the lightest of pink flush creeping up her neck. 

“I mean, are you embarrassed? Wait- is it Garvey?” John laughed and lit up a cigarette. “Are you worried that the soldiers won’t like it if Mom and Dad start rolling in the hay?”

“Hancock, I’m done with this conversation.” Cat’s voice was deathly quiet. She unfolded herself from the stool and walked out of the house.

 

At first, he was fucking pissed. No one and he meant no one, walked away from John Hancock when he was talking to them unless they were looking for a fight. He stomped to his room and began throwing his belongings into his bag before he realized that Mama fucking Murphy was washing all of his clothes. 

Fine. He would get blitzed out of his mind and leave in the morning. He wasn’t going to stay around here and be disrespected by some bitch with a bad attitude. John threw himself on the bed and reached for a jet inhaler. 

The first puff calmed his anger and allowed him to settle down enough to contemplate her apologizing. They could still travel together if she would admit how bitchy that move was. The second puff made him replay the conversation in his head and he felt a bit uneasy. Okay, he should probably not have implied she had a secret rendezvous sex kink. The next puff had him up off the bed in a slight panic, ready to apologize. 

He walked out into the sunshine and headed down the main street still wondering why he couldn’t just shut the fuck up about it. He could tell he was bothering her. That it wasn’t something she wanted to go into but he just kept pushing because…...why? Because he felt agitated and wanted her to feel agitated too? Because he kept thinking of that shadowy figure and the curve of her legs and feeling sick to his stomach? 

“Jealousy, John. What you’re feeling is jealousy.” croaked a voice to his left. 

John about jumped out of what little skin he had left and turned to find Mama Murphy watching him from a comfy green chair under an old carport. She was huffing jet as his laundry flapped on the line behind her. 

“You wanna hit me with that again, Mama?”

She shook her head and tossed the jet aside, “Not important, you’ll figure it out. Now listen up kid, cause I’m only gonna say this once. She’s gonna be important for you so you stick close to her. Don’t let her outta your sight. Keep both her feet on the ground and be patient. That’s gonna be the hardest part for you but be patient. Don’t screw this up, John. This is your last chance.”

John gaped at her open mouthed but Mama Murphy just settled back to ride out her high. “She went up the hill towards the vault. Don’t know what you did to set her off but she looks right pissed off. Also, remember to let the frying pan soak!”

John started walking slowly in the direction Mama Murphy indicated with her chin, trying to comprehend what he just heard. The old woman’s words had given him chills but he had learned not to listen to druggies long ago. He was still musing when heard soft footsteps. 

Cat was walking back along the wall of the settlement with an armful of hubflowers, looking all the world like a pre-war advertisement. She saw him and came to a stop, her face blank. 

He jogged up to her immediately, feeling like a fifteen-year-old kid instead of almost forty.

“Cat, I’m a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have said any of that shit. I can be a real dick sometimes and I’m sorry.”

Cat’s face warmed instantly and she unexpectedly pulled John into a hug that took his breath away in a silent gasp. She was sun-warm against his chest and a clean scent flooded his nose.

“I forgive you. I don’t understand why you said those things but I forgive you.” She pulled away and he couldn’t help but smile down at her. Her smile faltered. “The thing is Hancock, by traveling with you I’m basically telling you that I trust you with my life.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“And honestly, you know all my dark secrets….except this one. Because it’s not just my secret. So please don’t ask me about it again.”

“Alright, sunshine.”

“If you hear him again…” he glanced at her and she was beet red. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave. It's not...it's complicated.”

He paused and thought about the alternative, the possibility of hearing her with someone else. 

“I think I have to…..” 

Their eyes met and she colored and didn’t ask him to explain. 

Me and my fucking mouth, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat is very different at home. As I'm sure you can see.


	9. Bell the Cat

“So,” Cat started as she shifted the armload of hubflowers and winced at the prick of their thorns. “I think we should head out tomorrow if it’s okay with you.”

“‘Course. I’m just along for the ride, sister.” He leaned over and took the hubflowers from her without saying anything. “Where are we going, by the by?”

Cat rubbed at the scratches left on her bare arms and frowned. “Right, well about that...” She led the way back into the settlement and he followed. She was starting to shiver but he thought giving her his coat would be taking the gentleman act a bit too far. 

“This is really unfair of me to ask of you so feel free to bow out but I really can’t put it off anymore now that I have everything I need.” She was rambling. 

“Was what you needed a shit ton of hubflowers?” he asked. 

“What? No.” she shook her head and forced a smile at his joke, mostly for his sake. "I needed a good set of power armor and according to my mechanic, who I spoke to this morning while someone was still snoozing, I now have one." 

She walked up to a white picket fence and opened the gate for him to go through. He hadn't been in this portion of the settlement yet and it took him a minute to recognize that it was a small graveyard. She took the flowers from his arms and began laying the blooms out methodologically on the twenty or so graves. He watched in silence, feeling like an outsider. He wondered which grave was her husband's or if he was buried here at all. She continued to talk while she spread the flowers but didn't seem to pay tribute to any one grave in particular. 

"So anyway, it's super unfair, but I'm headed to the glowing sea tomorrow and you can come if you want." she was purposely not looking at him. 

John wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't that. 

He let out a soft whistle and had to grip the picket fence as he thought of petite, pink cotton-clad Cat trudging through that barren wasteland. 

"Fuck me sideways, sister. What could you possibly want in there?" he rasped. 

She straightened up and dusted the dirt from her hands, scanning her domain while she chewed on her response. He mentally checked himself. Sure, she looked like Suzy Homemaker, barefoot and in the kitchen, but she had scratched this settlement (and about 15 others) out of the same shitty circumstances that everyone had been dealt. Honestly, she was at a distinct disadvantage to most wastelanders, having grown up soft and sheltered with zero survival skills, and yet here she was, the general of the Minutemen. She was thriving, helping the little guy, all the while creating a name that kept her enemies up at night. He was lucky to lick the dirt off of her boots. 

But still...the glowing sea was no fucking joke. 

 

"Nick and I hit a dead end tracking Shawn." Cat started, breaking into John's musings. "I killed Kellogg before we could get enough information out of him. I was stupid and enraged." She shook her head, her wavy curls swaying. "What little we have points to an escaped institute scientist hiding somewhere in the glowing sea. I have to talk to him."

"Where about in the glowing sea? It's kinda a big place." He was afraid of her answer.

She bit her lip. "I don't know." He groaned. She hurried on, "I know this sounds like a fool's errand but I've been spinning my wheels since I killed Kellogg four months ago. I don't have any other options. The longer I wait...the staler the trail gets. Do you know what the odds are of finding a missing person who was abducted ten years ago?" Anguish crossed her face. She didn't wait for him to answer. "The power armor should protect me from the worst of the radiation. Trust me, if there was another lead, I would have found it." 

Cat looked up at him suddenly. She moved closer to him and his breath caught in his throat as the clean scent of her flooded his nose again. He looked down into her anxious gray eyes. 

"You don't have to come with me." She said quietly. "Really and truly, there are no hard feelings if you want to sit this one out." 

He couldn't help it, it was like his hand acted of its own accord. He touched her pale cheek ever so softly, just traced the delicate bone for half a second. She didn't recoil but he saw surprise in her eyes. It was too late to pull his hand away so he let it continue up into her hair where he pretended to nonchalantly remove a leaf from her wild white tresses. 

"Can I talk you out of this?" his rough voice grated. 

The gray eyes turned to harden steel. "Nope."

"Do you understand how dangerous this is for you?"

"Mostly...I think so."

He sighed and dropped his hand. "Okay, when do we leave?"

Relief flooded her face. "Thank you." And, without precursor, she rocked forward on her toes and kissed his withered cheek. 

You could have knocked him over with a feather. He was completely unaware that she had continued talking, planning and even walking away from him until she called his name over her shoulder confused as to why he hadn't followed. 

Because at this point it was it becoming apparent that he would follow her just about anywhere. 

He stood behind her in the shadows while she checked and rechecked the power armor, packed a ridiculous amount of Radaway and RadX, and dodged a worried looking Mr. Handy who had just returned from a neighboring farm. 

All the while, the outline of her lips on his cheek burned like the ghost of radiation. He tried not to read too much into it. A kiss on the cheek was a friendly gesture. She had kissed Mama Murphy on the cheek just that morning. That's probably it, he thought glumly. He probably reminded her of her lovable surrogate grandmother who fought with her robot butler about her unmentionables. 

But still....

She hadn't asked her shady secret lover to go with her to glowing sea......

 

They were headed out early in the morning so Codsworth finally cornered them with a hot meal that night. He was a bit dithered at cooking for a mayor despite John telling him multiple times not to do anything fancy. Cat seemed nervous but happy to be progressing towards finding her boy. She was curled up in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt (Mama Murphy had returned their clean clothes that afternoon) and had produced a black kitten from somewhere to warm her lap. While Codsworth bustled around the kitchen, Cat teased the robot relentlessly, much to Hancock's amusement and Codsworth's covert enjoyment. He was settling in for a pretty good evening when the door flew open and banged against the wall, causing Codsworth to squawk absurdly. 

John lunged for his shotgun which he had been oiling on the coffee table but Cat was already on her feet with her 10mm trained on an indignant looking Piper, a small girl who must be Nat, Piper's younger sister, and a shaggy German Shepard. Both humans had piles of newspapers in their arms. The kitten mewed pathetically from the couch. 

"Well, hello to you too." Piper quipped as she kicked the door closed behind her. 

"Can you not enter every room like you're about to bomb it?" Cat shot back, lowering her pistol. Dogmeat ran across the room to much love and ear scratches from his owner. 

Codsworth exclaimed in delight over their arrival and took the girls' packs to their shared bedroom. Nat dropped her armload of newspapers on the coffee table and immediately threw her arms around Cat's middle. 

"Hey, sweet girl! How was the big city?" Cat kissed her forehead and hugged her close as Dogmeat barked happily at them.

"Boring. Piper took my gun away." 

Piper rolled her eyes at Cat over Nat's head. "You can have your BB gun back when you can prove you have some moral fiber." 

"Uh oh." Cat said looking down at Nat. "Sounds like a story."

"I'll give you the highlights," Piper said sitting down with a huff and beginning to unlace her boots. "It involves Travis held at gunpoint and 6 straight hours of A Wonderful Guy on a loop." 

Cat and Hancock laughed. Piper raised an eyebrow. 

"I see we have company." she didn't look too terribly thrilled about it. 

"Oh!" Nat exclaimed, letting go of Cat. "You're a ghoul!"

John grinned. "Good eyes on this one. Pleased to meet you little miss, the names' John Hancock." He went to shake her hand and was surprised when Nat shrunk back and turned big eyes up to her sister. It stung. It always stung. 

Piper had the decency to color slightly. "It's okay, Nat. He's a friend." 

Nat, however, shook her head and muttered something about being tired before disappearing to her room. There was an awkward silence. 

"Sorry, Hancock. She hasn't seen many ghouls." Piper sounded genuinely embarrassed by Nat's reaction but the wound still smarted. 

John forced a smile and said, "hey, don't worry about it. Kids will be kids." 

Cat looked at him concerned and opened her mouth but he just shook his head at her. There wasn't anything to say about it. It just was what it was. Suddenly he really needed a hit of jet and excused himself to his room for a moment. He didn't miss the tight-lipped look that passed between Pipper and Cat, or the uneasiness that they communicated to each other over what had just happened. As he walked past one of the bedrooms he noticed a pair of brown eyes looking at him from a crack in the door. He smiled tentatively but the eyes only widened in panic and the door closed with a snap. He sighed and entered his bedroom, shutting out the sound of the two women talking quietly down the hall. 

H was pretty used to people's negative reactions at this point. He had been a ghoul for ten years and there had been much, much worse reactions to his face than the fear exhibited by Nat. It was just that Cat had never seen any of that. She had only seen him treated with respect and even fearful reverence. She, herself, had always treated him as an equal and as a friend, despite his obvious lack of humanity and seriously fucked up face. She even touched him like the feel of his radiation burns didn't make her skin crawl. He hadn't forgotten what he was during the last few days with her but he maybe had wondered if it didn't matter so much. 

The reality of his ghoulishness crashing in like that had just made the distance between them feel all the more potent. He had somehow, in the course of one day, forgotten that she wasn't for him. She'd never pick him for anything other than a friend and business partner. She didn't need anything else from him. 

He found a jet inhaler and pulled hard on it. The calming effect hit his system making him close his eyes and breathe slowly through his ruined nose. Eventually, the ache in his chest dulled and he was able to sit through dinner with his usual charm. Nat never made an appearance. If he was extra careful not to touch Cat's skin as he passed her the pitcher of water, he didn't think she noticed, distracted as he was by Piper asking them to go over their plans with her yet again. 

It took him a long time to get to sleep that night.


End file.
